A Knight's Reward by Catherine Kean Read Free Book Online Page A

Gisela.”
    “We do not appear to have been followed.”
    “That we know of.”
    She swallowed. “You mean—”
    “We will not dally.” While he spoke, he urged her to a quicker pace. “There may be thugs waiting for us at the street ahead.”
    “Waiting for you, you mean,” she said. “You must be a dangerous man, Dominic.”
    His shoulders stiffened. Tension, now, defined his strides. As they hurried on, the smoky tang of the blacksmith’s market fire carrying on the breeze, Dominic muttered, “I had not thought so.”
    “You had reason, though, to be disguised as a peddler. Do you have enemies in Clovebury?”
    He suddenly froze, as though hearing a suspicious noise, and pressed her back against the stone wall of a nearby building. Flattened beside her, he said quietly, “We will discuss the matter later.” After freeing his hand from hers, he slid the knife from his sleeve. He glanced at the entry to the alley. Tense. Alert.
    A guarded secretiveness shadowed his handsome face. Resolve defined the set of his mouth. As she looked up at him, a wilder, tougher version of the man she’d loved, she wondered how much she really knew him. And whether he would answer her question.
    Years ago, even though he was the son of a rich lord and she but a common merchant’s daughter, they would have told each other anything. Promised each other anything.
    Now . . .
    Pressing her fingers to the building’s rough stone, she tried to ignore the anguish of lost dreams. Both of their lives had changed, too much for her to hope he’d be in her life again with any more permanence than a shifting sunbeam.
    Despite what they’d shared in the past . . . and what they had in common now.
    Dominic no doubt had hundreds of beautiful, wealthy noblewomen vying for his attentions. Years ago, after the arranged marriage his father and stepmother had tried to force upon him, he’d vowed he would never wed. How he had railed in the meadow, stomping through the grass and cursing his entrapment that had naught to do with love, only his father’s ambitions. To escape his betrothal to the highborn lady barely thirteen years old, he’d joined the king’s crusade and left England.
    Now that he’d returned, an older and more worldly-wise man, he likely viewed marriage differently. He was probably wed to a lady worthy of his noble status, with children of his own.
    Swallowing down the distressing thought, Gisela watched him peer into the alley. He grimaced, revealing the motion hurt. Then he laughed and shook his head. A mangy cat bounded past, a mouse in its jaws.
    “Come on.” Clasping her hand again, Dominic led her into the alley and toward the noisy market square. Musicians had started up a lively tune for an audience who clapped in time to the melody.
    “Dominic, we are going the wrong way.”
    “Trust me,” he said. “’Tis safest for us right now to be in a crowd. ’Twill be easier to lose anyone who might be following. Then, you may show me where to go.”
    Resentment—an emotional habit worn like a rut into her soul—welled up inside her at his commanding tone. Ryle had often spoken to her as though she had the intelligence of an iron trivet. Simply by being her husband, he’d believed he had the right to control even the tiniest facets of her existence.
    A shudder jarred through her, leaving in its wake a painful emptiness. She shoved aside thoughts of Ryle. Dominic was not Ryle. Could never be Ryle.
    Dominic glanced back at her, his brow creased with a frown. “What is wrong? Did you see someone following?”
    “I am just . . . uneasy.”
    Compassion softened his gaze before he looked away. “’Tis not a bad thing,” he said, so softly she almost didn’t hear. “’Twill keep you safe.”
    Safe . She’d forgotten what ’twas like to be safe. No matter how reassured she might feel with Dominic leading the way, danger still lurked. Ahead of her. Behind her. In the market that drew townspeople from this county and